


The Adventure Is Worth It

by elwinfortuna



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, It Smells Like Elves, The Shire, Young Bilbo Baggins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinfortuna/pseuds/elwinfortuna
Summary: Bilbo's mother introduces him to the Elves, despite his father's objections.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Belladonna Took, Bungo Baggins/Belladonna Took, Gildor Inglorion & Bilbo Baggins
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	The Adventure Is Worth It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunn/gifts).



“Well, come along, then!” Belladonna grinned, her eyes dancing. “Don’t you want to see the Elves?” She held out her hand to her son. 

Bilbo, twelve years old and a little shy, hesitated. “Are they scary?” 

“No!” Belladonna laughed. “They are Good People.” Then she tilted her head to the side, as if she were remembering. “Well, sometimes they are a little scary. But the adventure is worth it, and they are very beautiful and kind.” She wiggled her fingers, and he took her hand. 

“Don’t go getting yourselves lost now!” Bungo said from his armchair. He had a book in his hand, a mug of tea next to him, and a pile of buttered scones on a tray. “Might rain later! You won’t catch me out in it.” 

“It’s perfectly beautiful out,” Belladonna said, peering out the front door of Bag End. High above, fluffy white clouds sailed in the blue sky. There was only the faintest hint of rain on the horizon. “We won’t be gone long.” 

“Well, see that you aren’t. Those Elves will steal you away, given half the chance.” 

“Will they really?” Bilbo asked his mother, wide-eyed. 

“Oh no, of course not. Bungo, don’t be silly. You know Elves don’t do that.” 

Bungo’s eyes peered over the top of his book to regard his wife suspiciously. “You never did explain where you went when we were courting. Vanished into the Blue, as it were. Always thought Elves had something to do with it.” 

“I came back, didn’t I?” Belladonna shook her head. “I came back for you. I needn’t have. I could have stayed. But I missed you, even in the middle of my adventures.” 

Bungo noticeably softened. “All right, then. Be off with you, both! Go see your Elves, and try to keep your feet from getting all muddy when the rain comes.”

For a time they walked on the Road toward Bywater, Bilbo running ahead sometimes, picking up smooth flat stones along the way. He enjoyed skipping stones and was always looking for the right kind. 

Just beyond Bywater the Great East Road ran, but Belladonna called to Bilbo and ducked off the road into the woods before the two roads met. "My friends are staying near here," she said. 

Bilbo stayed by her side now as they walked through the woods. After a few minutes he began to sense something marvellous. It was not a thing he could yet see with his eyes, nor yet hear with his ears. The best he could do was approximate it to a scent, but it was more than that. Every hair on his arms was standing up. His scalp was tingling. It was wonderful and a little terrifying at the same time. 

Belladonna reached down and took his hand. "Not much further," she said. Bilbo could now hear music, fair and sweet, ringing in his ears, ringing through his whole body, in fact. It made him want to dance, and at the same time, to sit down and listen with all of himself so that he didn't miss a note of it. 

There through the trees he began to see the camp: a row of white tents, banners fluttering in the breeze, fair faces and figures clad in greens and blues and browns and a few in dark red, fair voices calling out to each other, the scent of woodsmoke, baking bread, roasting meat, and above all that tingling sense of delight and wonder. 

Belladonna walked right into the camp leading Bilbo, like she had been there many times (which indeed she had). She knew exactly where to go, and before long had stopped in front of a tall blond Elf clad in green. 

"Belladonna!" he exclaimed happily. "It gives me great joy to see you again." He looked down, smiling, at Bilbo. "And this is your son?" 

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service," Bilbo said with his best company manners. He did not want to be disrespectful to the Elves! 

"Gildor Inglorion, at yours," the Elf replied, laughing, laying a hand on Bilbo's head. "Come now, you must be hungry after your walk!" And to Bilbo's delight, he led them over to the cookfires, where he was given meat and bread and roasted vegetables and fresh-sliced fruit and seedcake and tea, until he was utterly full and contented. 

Belladonna, Bilbo, and Gildor, along with a few other Elves, sat down on the green grass near one of the tents for their feast. The sun was now at high noon and it was still a fair day, though the clouds were slowly moving in. The day would end in rain, but not yet. 

While they ate, Belladonna and Gildor talked of many things, most of which Bilbo did not understand, for it was all about lands he had never heard of and places he did not know even existed. One name was familiar, and that was Gandalf, the wandering wizard. 

"He sends you his greetings," Gildor said to Belladonna, "but is far away in the Southlands, in Gondor, now. He was in Imladris late last year and spoke of returning to the Shire as soon as he may, but that it might be a few years yet." 

Bilbo spoke up excitedly. "I remember his fireworks! Flowers and fountains of fire springing up out of the ground! They were glorious!" 

Gildor laughed, and Belladonna smiled at him. "You have a good memory, son," she said. "You must have been only four years old the last time Gandalf was here in the Shire." 

"Dad didn't like you to talk to him," Bilbo said, remembering. "He said Gandalf was a 'crazy old codger' and no good would come of it."

"Well, your dad sometimes says things that aren't right," Belladonna said calmly. "At times like that, I just ignore him. Bilbo, you have to do what your heart tells you, not what anybody else says. What does your heart tell you about Gandalf?" 

"That he's good," Bilbo said. He glanced around at the Elves, who were all looking at him with kind interest. "He's good, like Elves, though he's not an Elf." 

"He's not, you're right," Gildor said. "He's something more. He comes from the West, from Valinor, and is of the people of the Ainur."

Bilbo screwed up his face; the word was familiar though he could not recall having heard it. "What are the Ainur?" he asked after a moment of trying to remember. 

"They are the Powers of this World," Gildor said. "They formed Middle-earth and all you see therein. There are thousands of them, and Gandalf, as he says himself, is one of the least of them."

"You sing of Elbereth, Lady of the Stars," Belladonna said. 

At the name of 'Elbereth' there was a hush among the Elves, and then slowly, solemnly, they began to sing in a language Bilbo did not know. The sweet grief of the song sent chills through him. Belladonna reached over and pulled him close to her and they listened intently. 

In his mind, Bilbo could see a great lady standing atop a high mountain, listening. Next to her stood a tall lord with a great Eagle balanced atop his wrist like a falcon. The lord looked at him and he gasped, hiding his face. It was too much, too much to bear for a small hobbit...! 

When he came back to himself, the song was over, and Belladonna was holding him, brushing his hair back from his eyes. "I know," she said. "It's almost too beautiful." 

The sky was clouding over, and the Elves were quietly going about their business. Only Gildor still sat next to Belladonna and Bilbo. 

"I think we must say farewell soon," Belladonna said. "The rain is coming."

"It is," Gildor agreed. "It has been lovely to see you, if only for a little while, and to meet Bilbo at last." They stood, Belladonna brushing down her skirts. 

Bilbo reached out and took Gildor's much larger hand in his own. "May I come back tomorrow?" 

Gildor smiled, but there was sadness in it. "Alas, child, we move on tomorrow. We are the Wandering Companies and never stay anywhere for long. But fair indeed is the Shire! We shall return and when we do, you are most welcome." 

As Belladonna and Bilbo walked away, Bilbo kept turning back, as often as he could, to see the figures between the trees. The sense of wonder, fading now, was replaced by the scent of petrichor. Somewhere near, the rain was falling. 

Bilbo scurried, dripping wet, through the front door of Bag End, closely followed by his mother. Bungo, standing arms akimbo in the entrance hall, frowned. "Didn't I tell you you'd get soaked? Out in the rain, the both of you!" He tutted sharply. "Whatever am I going to do with this pair of dreamers I have for a wife and son?" 

Belladonna just laughed. "You're going to have to live with it!" she retorted merrily. "You knew I was like this when you married me!" 

Bilbo looked up at his father and smiled. "It was worth it, Dad," he said. "You should go see the Elves yourself, when they come back."

Bungo tutted again. "Go see the Elves indeed! My son, are you a Baggins or a Took?"

"He's half of both," Belladonna answered. "And you knew _that_ when you married me too!" Laughing, she flung herself into Bungo's arms, dripping wet as she was. Bungo flailed and laughed himself, catching her, and unbending enough to give her a hearty kiss. 

"Now we're all three soaked," he complained. 

Belladonna winked at him. "Good," she said. "Now we all have to change."

"Eurgh, mushy stuff." Bilbo made a face at the kiss. 

Bungo was smiling now. "Go get changed, son," he said, then turned to his wife. "Come on, you." 

Belladonna laughed and allowed herself to be dragged down the hall to the master bedroom, while Bilbo made his own dripping way to his own little room. It was one of the bedrooms which had a window, and for a long time after he changed into dry clothing, he looked out of that window over the misty fields and roads, fancying that far in the distance he could see white tents, and that on the rainy breeze, he could smell the Elves.


End file.
